Is this what God is?

A bunch of palm trees.
Looking up at 'em with their
dry brown palm leaves hushing
up birds nests.

       Is this what
God is
jazz in the late August night,
ants at the foot of my bed--
wait they're in my bed,
can't sleep so write poems
instead.

Is this what God is?
The whuh whuh whuh whuh
whirring of a stand-up
fan, the hum hum ohm hum ohm hum
of an air-conditioner,
the shtick shtick shtiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigurgleiiiiiick
noises of the sprinkler
system.

A bunch of fuckin' palm trees.